


hurricane woman

by babelincoln



Category: 2NE1, Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Drabble, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21616381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babelincoln/pseuds/babelincoln
Summary: “i wish you’d think of me.” park bom tells him.a better man would tell her he does, but he knows that she would find some way to prove him wrong even though he’s telling the truth. it’s half overconfidence in her own convictions and half an unnatural ability to craft her own crime stories and weave them into reality. she’d sit alone in this house on plastic sofa covers and believe in her own fiction, and seunghyun had to let her, because it was better than the alternative. as long as she was sure of her own correctness, she wouldn’t stretch so far as to do any real investigation, and her stretched suspicions kept her far safer than the truth ever possibly could.
Relationships: Choi Seunghyun | T.O.P./Park Bom
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	hurricane woman

he’d always said she was a dame to kill for. 

park bom was a hurricane woman. long hair, china doll eyes, short little dresses and legs that never seem to finish. there was a lot for seunghyun to find attractive in park bom; nothing more so than her unmatched presence. when park bom was happy, she was nonsensical rambling, unbridled passion and giggles that sound like rivers babbling through springtime forests. when she was angry, though, she was silent rage and fearsome wrath. when she was angry, god save choi seunghyun.

he seemed to be angering bom more often than not, these days. 

he wishes he could tell her what was going on, but the fact of the matter is that he can’t. he’d stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have at his shitty dead end office job, and he’d gotten wrapped up in things, fucking dark things, and the less bom knew of anything the better. he couldn’t tell her; but he also couldn’t stop her from catching on. he’d come home two hours late without so much as a phone call and find dinner cooked and cooled and ruined. she’d leave it out on the table to make a point. she’d scrape meat and vegetables into the garbage with a silent rage, making a show of it, making him watch. disappear upstairs only to return with a blanket and a pillow, dumping them on the couch and wrapping her arms around her torso and looking at him, vulnerable, like the girl he met all those years ago and not the woman who lets him love her despite her better senses. 

“i wish you’d think of me.” park bom tells him. 

a better man would tell her he does, but he knows that she would find some way to prove him wrong even though he’s telling the truth. it’s half overconfidence in her own convictions and half an unnatural ability to craft her own crime stories and weave them into reality. she’d sit alone in this house on plastic sofa covers and believe in her own fiction, and seunghyun had to let her, because it was better than the alternative. as long as she was sure of her own correctness, she wouldn’t stretch so far as to do any real investigation, and her stretched suspicions kept her far safer than the truth ever possibly could.

because when she smells whiskey on his breath, she lies to herself that she can smell perfume on his collar too. 

seunghyun had never been unfaithful to bom, at least not in the romantic sense. not since they met. childhood best friends, teenage dreamers, angels bound in holy matrimony, till death or bom’s hyperactive imagination, the next best thing, do them part. he was lying to her, though, and not very well, at that. he’d left behind tracks, breadcrumbs for bom to follow. he’d baited her to the candy house that was false conclusion. he felt awful. but the only way to protect her was to hurt her or leave her, and he was a selfish man who couldn’t bare to say goodbye. 

and he’s not exaggerating when he says that if she knew the truth, she would have to die.

he knows that one day, her patience is going to snap. she’s going to exact her own revenge. go out and find someone of her own, to drown her sorrows in, and when she leaves seunghyun for him, seunghyun is going to have to act like he deserves it. he’s going to drive her away eventually. but at least he won’t lose her, not really. she may not be by his side, but she’ll be alive, bringing happiness to the lives of others. she won’t have to worry about him anymore, not about what keeps him away from her so often. what he’d gotten himself wrapped up in, a labyrinth with no exit, his ordinary salaryman life had once been so easy. 

she stares at him with eyes full of hate and hurt and the question why as he comes home far past sunset yet another day, and she scrapes her fork hard against the porcelain of her plate this time as she shovels their dinner into the trash. he wonders why she still even bothers cooking, with all the food they seem to waste, but he knows it’s about the performance. he doesn’t answer when bom asks who his bitch on the side is. he tries to comfort her as she cries and she beats her small fists off of his chest and he says nothing, doesn’t fight back, just holds her in a hug that she eventually settles into, crying black patches of mascara into his crisp white shirt. she tells herself she can smell perfume. she can smell blood.

“i hope she’s worth it.” bom says, voice ragged.

seunghyun wants to tell her she is. 

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve deleted this twice now djdhj but I’m reposting because I do like it! I kept taking it down because all my fics were so short but it’s looking like the next one is gonna be 10k+ so we can deal with a little 800 words thing


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